


Mostly What I Need From You

by Mara



Series: Blood Bonds [8]
Category: Blood Ties
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-10
Updated: 2011-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-27 03:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mara/pseuds/Mara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes honesty doesn't seem like the best policy. Not when you have to explain vampires, demons, threesomes, and other terrifying things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Mike Wakes Up

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Madripoor Rose, MaiaC, Bunnyjadwiga, Redmonster, and KerryP for help solving a major plot problem. (Oh, Coreen reads one line that I stole from Wikipedia. It should seem clear which line that is when you get there.) Thanks to Dvorah for the beta! Her suggestions improved the story immeasurably.

It wasn't like Mike had been injured that frequently. A broken bone and appendicitis were pretty much the highlights of his hospital career. Well, and the time Vicki shot him. But nobody discusses that. Nobody.

However, once you'd been in a hospital, you'd recognize it, even if you were barely conscious. Mike sensed the stiff sheets, sweaty back, blinding pain in his head and stomach, and antiseptic smell. Why was he in a hospital?

When he opened his eyes, he saw something so unusual, he almost hollered: Vicki being held by a man. Not held as in held back. Held as in...cuddled. Vicki, being cuddled unprotesting on the lap of a man. Wasn't that the fourth sign of the apocalypse? Right after erupting volcanoes or something?

The man looked up at him and smiled, his entire face lighting up, as if Mike opening his eyes was a pile of presents on Christmas morning. "Vicki," the man said quietly.

"Mmm," she murmured into his shoulder, sounding sleepy.

"Mike is awake."

"Don't tease me."

"I'm not."

"What?" Vicki sat up and nearly fell off his lap. "Mike!"

"Vic." His voice sounded like he hadn't spoken in weeks.

"Jesus Christ in a fucking sidecar," she said, jumping up and leaning over him, "don't you ever scare us like that again, or so help me God I'm going to--"

"Vicki, if you must blaspheme, could you at least not mix your blasphemies?" The man looked pained, but amused.

Mike tried to speak again, but began to cough, which caused the pain in his stomach to spike. Vicki splashed some water into a paper cup and thrust it in his face. Mike held his breath to allow the pain to dull, as the man scolded Vicki for not giving him a straw.

Finally, he managed to get down a few sips of water. "What the hell is going on?"

"Oh, don't tell me you don't remember being a self-sacrificing _idiot_." Vicki glared at him over her glasses. Glasses? The man behind Vicki crossed his legs and leaned back with an air of enjoyment. "If you think you're getting out of this conversation about throwing yourself between me and Henry and every de--"

"Henry? Who the hell is Henry?" The other man froze so still he could have been a statue. "You're Henry?"

All air of amusement was gone. "Mike," the man said, then paused. "What is the last thing you remember?"

"What?"

Vicki growled. "Just answer him."

"I don't remember why I'm in a hospital, if that's what you want to know."

"No. What _do_ you remember?"

Mike closed his eyes. His head felt like it had been used as a strike plate and his memory was filled with fever dreams of weird women dripping blood reaching out to him, but he fought his way through to the last clear thing he could think of. "The Petrelli case!" he said with triumph. "The jury found him guilty and we went to celebrate. Did I manage to get stabbed or shot in the biggest cop bar in Toronto? Hell, I'll never live that down."

Vicki swallowed.

"What? Out with it."

"The Petrelli case was over five years ago. Maybe six." She shot a glance at the other guy. Henry. "Obviously, it was before I left the force."

"Left the...what are you talking about?"

"Hell. Mike, I'm losing my vision." She touched the glasses. "I got kicked out. And you don't remember it. Lucky you."

"Very funny, Vic. Is this really the time for practical jokes?" Mike put the elbow that hurt less down and pushed himself up on the nasty hospital pillows, noting with interest that both Vicki and this Henry guy jerked as if they wanted to come over and help him.

"This isn't a joke."

"You're telling me I've forgotten six years and it's not a joke? C'mon, didn't Al try that one on his partner last year when he got a concussion? Tried to tell him it was 2020 or something."

"She said it isn't a joke." The guy who'd been fondling Vicki stood. His smile was gone and he now looked cold.

"Who the hell _are_ you?" Mike glared at him. "Bad enough she's claiming I lost six years, but I wake up and some stranger is hugging her."

Vicki leaned against the nearest wall and started to laugh, but it wasn't the laugh of playing a successful joke. It was the kind of laugh that made him want to find her a psychiatrist.

Shooting Vicki a concerned glance, the man turned back. "My name is Henry Fitzroy. I'm Vicki's partner. She's a private investigator now."

"Henry," Vicki said, getting her laughter under control, "do you think--"

"No, I do not."

They stared each other down as Mike looked between them, trying to figure out what was going on. No question, they knew each other well. So why didn't he know this Fitzroy person?

Or did he? Could Vicki really be telling the truth?

"What do you need to prove we're telling the truth?" Henry asked. "Today's newspaper? Pictures? Sworn affadavits?"

Mike looked at Vicki. Arms crossed, she now looked like she wanted to beat the crap out of someone, but couldn't figure out a target. At least that hadn't changed.

"Six years?" he finally croaked out.

She took off her glasses (glasses!) and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Six years."

"You're not a cop. And you and he...uh..."

"No! I mean, yes. I mean...Jesus, Mike, it's complicated." She looked at Henry for help, but he just raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"Complicated? Try someone telling you you've lost six years of your life. _That's_ complicated!"

"No, trust me, this is all way more complicated." She looked almost amused for an instant. "Oh hell. Henry, what are we going to do?"

"For the moment, nothing." Henry gave Mike an unreadable look. "It's early yet to assume that this amnesia is permanent."

"You've seen this before?"

"On the battlefield, it's not unknown. It does usually resolve itself."

"Usually?" Mike was tired of being left out.

"The human mind is still a place of great mystery, even with the wonders of modern science."

"Which means what?" Vicki asked.

"Which means the doctors are going to tell you 'Hell if I know.'" And that grin Mike had seen upon awakening flashed by for just a moment.

"You're awake!" a voice shrieked from the doorway.

"Apparently I am," Mike said, startled by the appearance of a young woman who looked like she was a lot more likely to be frequenting certain bars of his acquaintance than hospital rooms.

"Coreen," Vicki said, "Mike's lost his memory of the last six years. So let's not, um, confuse him."

"Confuse me with what?" Mike asked, looking at the three of them.

"You know...names, dates, details." Vicki smiled brightly at him.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" the young lady asked.

"Vicki, you can't keep him in the dark forever." Henry shook his head.

"You just said it might not be permanent." Vicki's voice was getting louder.

Henry raised his in response. "Yes, but--"

"Where would you like to start?"

"Maybe we could start with everyone _not yelling_?" Mike put a hand to his head. "Everything hurts enough already." All three froze, looking guilty. "Then we can move on to the bit where someone tells me why I'm in a goddamn hospital!"

There was a long pause as they looked at each other. It would have been funny under most other circumstances. "Well?" Mike asked.

"Vicki and I were working a case, a homicide," Henry said finally. "In the course of that case, we were attacked. You intervened to protect us and ended up injured."

"You were working a homicide?" he asked Vicki. "I thought you were off the force."

"I am. Private investigator, remember? I chase bad guys too."

Mike rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You realize that makes absolutely no sense, right? What was I doing--"

"Let it go," Vicki said in a voice of steel.

"Let it go? Are you insane?"

"I can't do this right now." Vicki whirled and stomped out of the room. Henry shot him an...apologetic? look and went after her. Which left Mike alone with the goth girl, who turned worried eyes on him.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said, allowing the exhaustion to show in his voice. "And I'm sorry, but I've forgotten your name. I mean, since Vicki just said it."

"Oh! I'm Coreen. Vicki's assistant."

Eager to please, Mike judged. Too easy. But how to do it? "I'm sure Vicki needs a lot of help." He gave her his most engaging grin and she melted a bit, smiling back.

"Yeah, she does. But it's exciting."

"I'm sure it is." He let his face get more serious. "This is, well, it's really a lot to take in at once. Vicki losing her sight, leaving the force..."

"A lot's happened." She was leaning forward slightly, eager to help.

"And this last thing. Vicki, Henry, and I..." He paused. With nothing more to go on, he had to stop there.

Coreen nodded furiously. "I know! When I found out, it really, well, it didn't shock me, but..."

"Mm-hmm." C'mon, c'mon, honey, take the bait. "I'm a little shocked, I think."

"I think it's sweet, though, that you're all involved."

Involved in _what_? Drugs and gangs weren't exactly... "Sweet?"

"I mean, I don't know any details," she said quickly, "but I couldn't help notice when you all came into the office together and kept looking and touching and stuff."

He tried not to react but couldn't help it. Eyes nearly popping out of his head, he stared at her. Was she saying...did she mean that...?

"Oh my god." Coreen's hands popped up to cover her mouth. "You didn't know."

"No," he managed. "No, I didn't."

"Oh my god, Vicki's going to kill me. I'm dead." She jumped up.

"Wait, please!" He held out a hand. "I'm sorry I tricked you, but I need to know what's going on."

Eyes still darting toward the door, Coreen slowly sat back down. "It's not fair, but I understand why they don't want to throw everything at you at once. It really is very complicated."

"More complicated than the fact I'm apparently in a _three way with Vicki and some guy I don't remember_?"

"Well, uh..." Coreen stood again, edging backward. "I think I should go. I need to go...file things. In the files. I'm really glad you're okay. Gotta go bye!" And she was out the door so fast she seemed to leave a shadow behind her.

Mike blinked the shadow away, but before he had time to figure out his next move, Henry appeared in the doorway, shortly followed by Vicki. Vicki stared after Coreen in annoyance and Henry stepped in. "We should have realized she would, ah, let the cat out of the bag, as it were. It could have been worse."

Mike would have given anything to be able to stand up and face the bastard, loom over him, but he knew if he tried to stand, he'd end up looking like an idiot. "I'm waiting."

"Coreen told you the truth," Henry said as Vicki covered her eyes. "Difficult as it is to believe."

"Vic?" He swallowed when she didn't respond, just dropped her hands and looked at him. "But I don't...I'm not...I don't understand any of this!"

Henry pursed his lips. "Indeed. Perhaps I should go."

"Perhaps you should," Mike said.

"Henry, wait." Vicki touched his arm. "Please."

Henry glanced at Mike. "Look at him."

She looked and Mike realized he was glaring at her hand on the other man's arm, and he looked away.

"I'll go for now. It's getting early anyway. I need something to eat before I sleep."

"Henry." Vicki's voice cracked.

"It's going to be okay." He leaned toward her, as if to kiss her, then stepped away. "I'll speak to you tomorrow."

She watched him go out the door, but didn't turn around.

"Vic."

She shook her head.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Sometimes honesty _isn't_ the best policy. This is one of those times." She turned and Mike clenched his fists at the tears in her eyes. "Get some rest. I need to talk to the doctors about when you can come home."

He closed his eyes and sank into dreams of teeth and writhing and screams that grew closer without ever reaching him.

* * *

It's a well-known fact that time spent in hospitals takes five times as long to pass as any other time (except possibly the time between a child receiving birthday presents and getting permission to open them). And so, for Mike, the next four days were practically endless. He watched miserable television, slept terribly, occasionally recovered completely useless memories of eating Chinese food, picked at hospital food until Vicki and Coreen took pity on him, had more horrible dreams, and bickered with Vicki.

"Daytime television is the worst thing ever invented," he said, pushing the button on the remote in hopes of something less than horrible to have on for company when Vicki left.

"I can think of a few worse things."

"Well, you're not stuck in this bed," he said. "The Marilyn Denis show is still on? Really? How many hours can it possibly last?"

Vicki said something and Mike paused, attention momentarily caught by the segment on air. Two men in tuxedos, laughing as they exchanged rings, and Mike found himself mentally cheering them on. Which...he wasn't a bigot. No way. But when exactly did he become so comfortable with this?

"Are you even listening to me?" Vicki asked.

"Hmm? No, I wasn't." He grinned sideways at her as she smacked his arm.

His two most recent partners, Kate and Dave, both visited and were admitted into the secret of his lost memory.

"You can trust them with this," Vicki said over a not-doctor-approved lunch. "They won't rat you out to the higher-ups."

"Can they be trusted with other things?"

She shot him a look over her pastrami on rye. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Mike hesitated, then put down his roast beef. "Before I told her about my memory, Kate asked me where my cute thing on the side was."

Vicki coughed, then grabbed her coffee. When she'd cleared her throat, she managed, "She didn't mean me, I assume."

"Not so much."

Dabbing at coffee on her chin, she shook her head. "I didn't tell her anything, but I don't know what you might have said to her on a late-night stakeout. You might have told her, or she might have just been teasing."

"Great. Just great." He couldn't take it anymore. "Where is he?"

She pursed her lips. " _He_ kind of thought you didn't want to see him."

"I...Jesus, I don't even know the guy. I mean, I suppose I do, but, you know what I mean."

"Yeah."

"Look, apparently I'm in a relationship with him, so I'm going to have to see him someday."

"Are you?"

"What?"

"Are you in a relationship with him?"

"Vicki..."

She scrubbed her face. "I'm sorry, that's not fair. This whole situation isn't fair. You're getting dumped on because of past history you don't even remember."

Mike paused, looking at the bags under her eyes and the tension in her jaw. "What happened?"

"It's complicated."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?"

She snorted out a laugh. "Sorry, it's just that...never mind. People keep saying it's complicated because it is! Look, you and Henry didn't exactly start off on the right foot last time either." She paused, her smile fading. "You nearly got him killed."

Mike waited, barely breathing.

"Long story. But you handed him over to a serial killer."

"What?" Now Mike couldn't breathe, even if he wanted to.

"You didn't know. It's--"

"I know, I know, it's complicated."

"Exactly. And you helped to save him again, in more ways than one." Leaning forward, she looked him in the eyes. "It took time for you to trust each other, let alone anything else. Give him a chance, okay?"

He took a deep breath, then coughed, distracted by a glimpse of someone passing his room with a weirdly distorted head. Vicki struggled not to laugh at him as she handed him a glass of water. "Fine, laugh at the sick man," he said. "Dave told me everybody seems to think I'm some kind of civilian-saving hero, killing this guy who was about to go on a killing spree. But I'm guessing that what the official report says and what you saw don't match all that well."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because if that were true, you would have told me from the beginning. I hate being called a hero, but you wouldn't have any problem either teasing me about it or telling me that I'd actually, I don't know, tripped over a curb and accidentally taken down the bad guy."

"I like that explanation. Can we go with that one?" She tried a smile.

"No."

She sat and looked at him for a long moment. "Look, I can't answer all of your questions, even if I thought it was a good idea. I don't _know_ what you were doing there that night. You weren't supposed to be. You were at work. And then you came running down that alley."

"And?"

"And he nearly killed you." Her voice shook. "Nearly ripped your guts out right in front of us. But you never had the chance to tell us why you were there."

"Oh." That was rather anticlimactic now that he thought about it. Not the nearly dying part, of course. But it was a lot less traumatic not remembering getting your guts ripped out. He didn't think Vicki would like having that pointed out to her, though.


	2. In Which Mike Really Wakes Up

Finally, the hospital agreed to let Mike out of their clutches and Henry showed up to help him get home. Mike found it surprisingly comforting to have the other man's help climbing out of the bed and into a wheelchair, which left him quiet enough to let Vicki to fuss over him. Of course, Vicki would swear until her dying day she didn't fuss, because that was a girly thing to do. But Mike eventually decided if she tried to tuck a blanket over his legs one more time he was going to _scream_.

They rolled out the wide automatic doors into the parking lot in a chilly, damp night. Not the best of Toronto weather, but Mike wouldn't have cared if it was the middle of a blizzard as long as he got to go home.

He was breathing deep, enjoying the fresh air with no harsh cleaning chemicals when something flickered in the corner of his eye. Since the parking lot was empty, he turned to look. A flash of a dress, no, a cape, no, enormous leathery wings?

"What the fuck?" Mike yelled, pointing to the shrubbery. The shapes flickered and he thought he saw a head of hair, Jesus Christ, hair and snakes and then whatever the hell it was, it was gone.

Turning to Vicki and Henry, his mouth fell open. Vicki was scanning the parking lot, just as he'd expect but Henry...his eyes were black and his teeth had gotten longer. He'd grown fangs. _Fangs_.

"What did you see?" Vicki asked, impatient.

Mike couldn't speak as Henry looked at him, startled, and his face changed again. But those had definitely been fangs, Mike's brain informed him with a great deal more calm than he thought it should be displaying when faced with what looked like a very dangerous predator.

Vicki looked at Henry and then at Mike. "Oh damn, Henry, you didn't."

"I did, I'm afraid."

"Did what? What the hell was lurking over there and what the hell are _you_?" Mike tried to roll his wheelchair back but he was too weak to get away from Vicki. "What the _fuck_ is going on?"

"You need to calm d--"

"I need to calm down? I've been attacked by some crazy guy with a knife and lost my memory and I'm seeing monsters in the bushes and apparently I'm being taken home by a monster and does anyone else see a possible problem here?"

"I did not harm you," Henry said, voice low and angry.

If anyone had the right to be angry around here, Mike thought, it wasn't the goddamn thing with fangs. "So you say."

"So we both say," Vicki said.

"What the hell is out there, then?"

"There is nothing there," Henry said. "I can't hear anyone outside the hospital other than us."

"You can't hear--what are you?"

"Can we not discuss this in a parking lot?" Vicki asked. "Let's take you home and then we can talk, okay?"

"No, no way, I'm--"

"Shut up!" Vicki was almost yelling now. "Just shut up, okay? I cannot do this standing right here." She stopped, closing her eyes long enough to take a deep breath, then knelt in front of his wheelchair. "Mike, I swear that Henry did not hurt you. Henry will not hurt you. And he's not a monster."

Mike felt his heart beating as if it would burst out of his chest. "Vic?"

"Please trust me now if you ever did."

He nodded slowly.

"Then let's take you home."

She pushed his chair the rest of the way to Henry's car and helped him in, in complete silence. It was an incredibly awkward ride, and Mike stared at the back of Henry's head the entire time.

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Mike said from his position lying on a bed he didn't remember in a room he didn't remember either. "You were trying to hide that we're in some kind of kinky relationship. And that he's a vampire who doesn't kill people but does drink our blood. And that I nearly got myself killed trying to protect both of you."

Vicki and Henry exchanged glances and nodded.

Mike rubbed his forehead. "Is there anything _else_? Maybe I'm the lost prince of Moldavia or something?" Vicki flinched and looked at Henry. "What? Wait, never mind, I'm beginning to think you were right and I didn't want to know any of this."

"Too late for that," Vicki said.

"You're telling _me._ " Mike shook his head. "Okay, let me rephrase: Is there anything else I need to know right now? Anything that's going to come back to bite me in the...uh, never mind." He resolutely didn't look at Henry.

"I can hear your heart beating faster," Henry said.

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"It wasn't intended to."

"Boys." It was a warning and they both took it as such. "Now, Mike, this thing you saw, could it, ah..."

"Be the result of my concussion?" He shrugged and winced, trying to decide if he needed more drugs. "How the hell do I know? I've been seeing weird things in my dreams, out of the corner of my eye. I don't know why, but it feels like something's getting closer."

Vicki sighed. "If you think there's a problem, we need to check it out. Maybe it's a..." She stumbled over her words. "A memory-eating demon." They stared at her. "What? All the crazy stuff we've seen and you think that's too weird?"

"Just a little," Henry said.

"Then give me something better."

Henry didn't flinch and Mike had to give him points, because there weren't many people in the world who didn't take an involuntary step back when Vicki looked like that. "Perhaps he has simply lost his memory due to the injury to his head, just as the doctors suggest."

"No."

"Y'know, I'm right here."

"I won't accept that."

"Because then he might not get it back?" Henry asked, crossing his arms.

"Because I'm not giving up on him."

"Are you saying that I am giving up?"

" _Shut up!_ " Henry and Vicki stopped and looked at Mike and he tried to catch his breath without showing how much of his energy that one shout had used. "Stop talking over my head like I'm invisible or in a coma or a child. I'm not dead, for Christ's sake--"

"Not you too," Henry murmured.

Mike glared and Henry subsided. "I'm not dead although I'm rapidly going insane. Whatever's happened to my memory, it can wait while we figure out if I'm hallucinating monsters. I am starting to get some memories back, after all."

"Great." Vicki snorted and stood up. "I feel a lot better knowing you've remembered sitting in my office. Once."

"Two times, actually. The second time Coreen brought us Tim Horton's."

Henry's lips twitched as he apparently fought not to smile. Vicki began pacing. "I'm glad you both find this so amusing."

"And in the parking lot, it looked like a woman with snakes in her hair. Was that a nightmare or real?" Mike blinked. "I can't believe I just asked that."

Henry sighed. "How flattering that you remember her before you remember me."

"Her?"

"The Gorgon. She appeared as a very attractive woman and you were her last victim."

"You chased her like a dog in heat and she turned you into a statue," Vicki snapped.

"Chased her?" Mike looked at both of them. "Was this--"

"Never fear, it was before our arrangement came about." Henry huffed out a breath. "You made a rather handsome statue, though."

"Henry, it's not funny. You got turned into a statue too!"

Mike tuned out their bickering as he tried to bring the memory back. He'd been interested in a woman with snakes in her hair? Okay, she probably didn't have snakes in her hair at the time. This was all entirely insane.

* * *

Vicki and Henry eventually left the room so he could sleep. Or rather ordered him to sleep. If he hadn't been so tired, he might have argued with that.

It was the voices that woke him up again. They were outside the bedroom door and apparently upset enough to forget to keep their volume down.

"You could try," Vicki said.

"It's too dangerous for him."

"You did it before."

"That was different, and his brain was whole. I will not risk it. Even to bring him back to us."

"Damn it, Henry..."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could."

There was a pause and Mike could imagine them...hugging. Hugging! His Vic, hugging somebody for comfort? Good grief.

Vicki's footsteps moved away and the doorknob turned, so Mike quickly closed his eyes.

"I know you're awake," Henry said, stepping into the room.

"Oh. Right." He opened his eyes again and looked at the amused vampire. Maybe if he kept saying that to himself he'd get used to the idea. As long as he didn't think about fangs...

Henry's face went blank again and he stepped backward. "I'm frightening you. I will leave."

"No. I...you knew I could hear you."

"Yes." Henry waited.

"What does Vicki want you to do?"

"Are you certain you want to know?"

Mike rolled his eyes. "You wanted me to ask or you would have told her I was listening."

Tilting his head, Henry conceded the point. "I have the ability to control the minds of others. Among other things, I can help people to, shall we say, lower their inhibitions."

Mike fought down a wave of revulsion. Vicki trusted Henry. Apparently he had trusted Henry. "Go on."

"Six months ago, when we three entered into this relationship, you were held back by preconceptions that it was unmanly to be attracted to another man."

"So you changed my mind?"

"I offered my assistance in lowering your inhibitions and you accepted. I never controlled you or forced you to do anything." Face set and angry, Henry began to pace along the wall.

"Sorry." Apparently that was a sore spot between them. "So, do you think my inhibitions are keeping my memories from me?"

"No." Henry stopped in front of the window and leaned on the sill. "No, Vicki thinks I can use the same abilities to force you to remember. And if your mind were healthy and whole, it might be possible. I know I could force you to remember a certain thing, so an order to remember could bring everything back. But with no sure way of knowing what is wrong, I could easily make things worse. It could destroy your mind."

"I think reality's doing a good job of that." Mike wasn't sure why he was trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Henry looked over his shoulder at him. "The only thing I’m sure I could do is force you to relive one of my memories. Anything other than that would be too dangerous."

"You can give me one of your memories?"

"Yes, I..." Henry turned. "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing."

Crossing his arms, Henry waited.

"I was just wondering what it was like."

Henry smirked at him for a moment, obviously thinking about saying something annoying, but he chose not to say it aloud. "I could give you a memory of time we've spent together."

Swallowing, Mike looked at him. "What would you need to do?"

Henry paused, then shook his head. "You're not going to like it."

"Out with it."

"It requires blood. A drop of my blood." Henry didn't quite sigh and Mike wondered what his own face looked like. "You've seen the movies. A drop is nowhere near enough to turn you into a vampire."

"You have to give a drop of blood every time you control someone?" That seemed pretty inefficient.

"No. Control—or vamping, as you like to call it—is much easier." Henry's eyes briefly faded to black, then back again. "This is more like a gift." He paused, as if about to say something else, then fell silent.

Mike's mind raced. If Henry wanted to control him, he'd just do it. And why would he want to turn him into a vampire anyway? But taking blood seemed indecent, dangerous, too much to consider.

In his own self-focus, it took Mike longer than he'd like to admit to realize what he saw in Henry's body language. The man was a step away from begging, holding himself back by force of will and what Mike suspected was a huge helping of pride. But the way he looked at Mike, leaning slightly forward, the focus of his eyes...

It occurred to Mike that he'd been so focused on his own plight and secondarily on Vicki, he'd never considered that Henry might be upset as well.

"Do it," Mike said quickly, pleased when Henry visibly relaxed.

However, despite himself, Mike tensed as Henry sat on the bed next to him, then forced himself to relax. He'd asked for this, after all. Henry's eyes went black, the fangs grew out, and he pierced the tip of a finger.

Then, eyes back to normal, Henry held the finger, with its single bead of red blood, out to Mike. Mike stared at the finger, unable to move.

"Please," Henry whispered.

Mike's eyes shot to his face, then he nodded once and opened his mouth. Henry's finger touched his tongue and--

 _\--my feet are propped up on Vicki's desk, laughing as she says something nasty to her computer. There's another pair of feet propped up next to mine, so I gently kick one. Mike looks at me, grinning, and I think about leaning over and wiping that grin off his lips, but I've learned patience over the centuries. I can wait until we're in bed._

 _Mike's grin widens as if he knows what I'm thinking, and he teases Vicki about her computer skills, even as he takes my hand in his own. I lean back in the chair. Content, warm, for this short time, loved. Vicki tosses a pen at us and--_

Mike gasped as Henry leaned back. He tried to speak, but couldn't figure out what to say, the faint coppery taste fading along with the vividness of the memory.

Henry simply watched him, not embarrassed, just waiting.

"I..." He swallowed. "I'm sorry."

Henry's eyebrows went up. "For what? Despite Vicki's complaints, I know you didn't do this on purpose."

"I don't know. Sorry for your loss?" Mike had no idea what he was saying, but his instinctive compassion told him he had to say something.

Henry stilled. "Thank you." He stood. "I must go. Vicki will be back soon to keep you company."

Henry was almost out the door before Mike found his voice. "You're going to, uh, eat?"

He stopped, a hand on the door frame and head bowed, looking like the wall was holding him up. "Yes."

"Be careful."

Turning, Henry stared at him. "Why do you say that?"

"What? I don't know, it seems like people might want to stake a vampire."

"I'll be careful. And that's what you always say to me when I leave. Fascinating."

And he was gone. Mike couldn't figure out what had just happened. Leaning back against the pillows Vicki had piled for him when they arrived, he looked around the rather spartan bedroom. How much time did he spend here? Did Henry and Vicki ever come here with him? For a moment, he thought he could imagine it. Henry had practically lifted him out of that wheelchair singlehandedly. He was small but incredibly strong and--

Mike didn't remember ever fantasizing about a man pinning him against the wall. It seemed his libido was a few steps ahead of his memory. Taking careful breaths, he stared fixedly at the print on the wall next to him for a good five minutes before he realized it was a page from a comic book. Which apparently featured himself being eaten by jackals. Lips twitching, he realized he couldn't wait to hear the story behind that.

He closed his eyes, still fighting the grin. Just as he was falling asleep, his mobile rang.

Sighing, he groped on the nightstand until he found it. "Celluci."

The sound that came through the phone was barely human, a screech, a wail, an unearthly thing. Mike dropped the phone from a hand that he could hardly feel and it clattered onto the floor, the sound still echoing in the room.

Somehow he knew that whatever made the sound was coming for him. And as the sound faded away, all he could hear was his own labored breathing.

* * *

From her perch on the edge of the bed, Vicki looked from the phone in her hand to him. "Screaming?" she asked for the third time.

"Shrieking." He paused. "You really couldn't hear it? It was so loud I didn't need to have the phone near my head."

"I didn't hear anything except the phone falling."

Mike heard voices in the living room, which quickly turned into Coreen and Henry. Henry sighed as he allowed Coreen to precede him through the bedroom door. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to decline your generous offer. I'm afraid your boss has made it clear I'm not to snack on the help."

Vicki rolled her eyes and Coreen gave a little shrug and grin. Mike tried to get the image out of his mind. "Can we focus on the fact that now I'm hearing screaming?"

"It could be an auditory hallucination," Henry said.

"I can't think why visual hallucinations would suddenly gain sound." Coreen shook her head and pulled out a netbook as she plopped down cross-legged on the floor. "No, at this point I think we can say monster."

"You always say monster."

"And I'm usually right."

"Except that divorce case."

Coreen looked up from typing. "Mistake one jerk of a husband for a demon and they never let you forget it."

"Mike nearly shot him and I clubbed him over the head!"

"Focus," Henry said with a growl from his position in the doorway.

"Right." Coreen waved a hand full of black nail polish and went back to typing. "So, I'm thinking the obvious answer is banshee. It includes the screaming and the feeling of impending doom."

"But what about the thing in the parking lot with the wings?"

"Wings? Nobody mentioned wings," Coreen said.

"Didn't I mention the wings?" Mike scrubbed his face. "Could somebody please get me some coffee? I feel like I haven't slept in a month."

"Look like it too," Vicki said.

"As ever, the soul of comfort."

Henry began pacing around the edge of the room. "None of this makes sense."

"That's what I keep saying," Mike muttered.

"I think we need to start at the beginning."

"Which beginning?" Coreen asked.

Henry paused, then looked at Mike. "When Mike's doppelganger attempted to kill us."

"Doppelganger?" Mike said quietly.

"It's an exact dup--"

"I _know_ what it is," he said even more quietly.

"Oh." Coreen closed her mouth abruptly.

Vicki sighed. "We meant to tell you that part, but we got distracted."

Mike crossed his arms and waited.

"You're right," Vicki said to Henry. "Okay, the beginning. Henry and I were working a case. We were following a lead when we saw you on the street. You gave us this story about being on a parallel case and needing our help to track the perp. We followed you into some kind of magical trap, which kept us from moving. You, he, it, whatever, had this big knife."

She paused, then continued, voice level, almost a monotone. "Then you, the real you, came running up and shot it. But it didn't fall down immediately and attacked you with the knife. We had to watch as you kept shooting while it was gutting you. It turned into this other guy and then we could move again."

Mike closed his eyes. "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Presumably he was a magic user," Henry said. "He might have been hired to kill us or simply disliked vampires."

"Imagine that."

Coreen sat forward. "Henry's right. This doesn't make sense. We've got a doppelganger magic user trying to carve you up. We've got something with wings. And we've got screaming on a phone."

"Could these be separate?" Vicki asked.

"Does that seem likely?" Henry replied.

"No, but you're pretty unlikely all by yourself."

Coreen was typing again. "Okay, a doppelganger will often impersonate the victim and go about ruining them, for instance through committing crimes. Maybe it was supposed to kill Vicki and Henry to frame you for the crime?"

"So it's one of _my_ enemies?" Mike asked. "Do I have witchy enemies now? Great."

Vicki took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "But he killed the doppelganger, so what's after Mike now?"

"We're going in circles again," Henry snapped. "From the top: A doppelganger of Mike lures us into a magical trap. The real Mike appears and kills it, but is nearly killed in the process. During his recovery he sees...what have you seen? Please describe everything."

"Shadows, distorted shapes that disappear when I turn to look at them." Mike closed his eyes to concentrate. "I don't know exactly what I've been dreaming about, but it's not pleasant. Teeth? Screaming? Blood dripping out of someone's eyes. In the parking lot, it looked like a woman with giant wings and snakes in her hair."

When he opened his eyes, Henry and Coreen looked startled and worried and Vicki was staring between them. "What?" she demanded.

Coreen swallowed and looked at Henry. "I'll look it up but..."

"The Erinyes," he said quietly.

"Uh-huh."

"What are you talking about?" Mike asked.

"Sometimes known as the Furies," Henry replied as Coreen went back to her computer.

"Wait, didn't we run into one of them already?" Vicki asked. "The case with the incubus."

"Mmm, the incubus," Coreen murmured.

Henry nodded slowly. "We defeated Megaera, the spirit of jealousy and envy. It's possible that she's come back for revenge."

"Megaera didn't have wings or snakes in her hair," Vicki said.

Henry looked at her. "Mike is possibly being stalked by a being out of mythology and you're worrying about the consistency of her appearance?"

"Good point."

Coreen read from the computer. "Maybe it's not revenge. A formulaic oath in the Iliad invokes the Furies as 'those who beneath the earth punish whosoever has sworn a false oath.'"

Mike shook his head. "Have I sworn a false oath? How would I even remember?"

"Maybe that's the problem," Henry said. "You can't remember the oath or the oath-breaking, so they can't reach you. The Furies were known as fair as well as cruel."

"Great. So as long as my memory is gone, I'm safe."

"Mike." Vicki waved a hand. "Earlier, you said it seemed like whatever it was, it was getting closer."

He paused, thinking. "Yeah. And I'm getting my memory back. That's not good, huh?"

"I doubt it."

They tossed ideas back and forth for what seemed like hours without getting anywhere. Finally, against his better judgment, Mike slid into an uneasy sleep because he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

* * *

He awoke some indeterminate time later to find the room mostly dark, with just enough light to cast spooky shadows. Mike toyed with the pleasant idea that Furies, vampires, and doppelgangers might possibly be just a dream.

Which was, naturally, when one of the shadows moved toward him.

"Vicki? Henry?" he asked.

The shape didn't answer. Looking around, Mike saw both Vicki and Coreen apparently asleep leaning against the wall. "Vic...now would be a good time to wake up."

The shadow coalesced into the woman-thing he'd seen in the bushes, wings furled behind her back and snakes casually writhing in her hair. "They can't hear you," she snarled.

"What do you want?" he asked, stalling for time.

"Your death."

"Why? Because we beat you before?" Maybe he should have asked what they'd done the last time...

The snakes writhed a little and she laughed. "That makes it all the sweeter, but no. I'm here as divine retribution, oath-breaker."

"What oath? I still don't know what I'm supposed to have done!"

He tried to scramble out of the way as the Fury put a hand to his forehead. "See your crime," she intoned.

 _Vicki and Henry, frozen in place, eyes wide with horror as he stepped forward, holding a jagged knife, killing fever on him to destroy his loved ones_

"That wasn't me!"

Megaera laughed. "Don't try to lie to me, mortal!"

"No, really. It was a doppelganger. Ask them." He waved a shaking hand at the sleeping people. Where the _hell_ was the vampire when he needed him? "I didn't do it. I may not remember what oath I've sworn to them, but I know I couldn't kill anyone like that."

"I must see for myself." And she seemed to plunge her hand into his forehead. Mike was pretty sure he screamed.

 _At the office, a strange feeling/Kill kill kill kill kill/No!/Got to find them, I need them, can't die/Keep driving, keep going, don't let go whatever happens/There they are, don't they know it's not me?/Keep shooting, oh god, the pain, keep shooting/So dark_

As he descended back into that darkness, Mike heard Henry shout something and the Fury say "You are released."

* * *

Somebody was slapping his face and it was pretty damn annoying. "Henry," he mumbled, "if that's you, I'm going to kick your ass."

The slapping stopped and there was complete silence. Mike cracked an eye open to see Vicki, Henry, and Coreen all staring at him. "What the--" Oh. "Okay, hang on. I need...this is weird."

It was like filing two sets of reports on the same events. He could remember what he'd been told but suddenly he also remembered what had happened to him. Damn, his head was pounding again.

"Mike." Vicki's voice sounded halfway to panic.

"I'm okay. The crazy lady has come and gone." He pressed his hands to his eyes, but unfortunately that did nothing for the cascade of images in his head.

"Mike!"

"I figured out what oath she was talking about. The oath I'd broken." He opened his eyes and blinked a few times as he looked at Vicki and Henry. "My oath to you. To...I don't know, to us, I guess."

"Broken it? By losing your memory?" Henry frowned.

"No, by trying to kill you."

"But you didn't do that, the doppelganger did."

"Yeah, it turns out the Furies can get confused. Whatever that magic user did, it tied us together and she thought he was me."

"How embarrassing," Henry said with a small smile.

The images were fading as his brain settled down. "Yeah. Wow. I think that last bit was an apology."

"What last bit?" Vicki asked with understandable suspicion.

Mike grinned up at his lovers in relief. "Giving me my memories back."

Vicki swallowed, grabbing his hand. "All of them?"

"As far as I can tell."

With no warning, she flung herself into his arms. Her elbow hit some barely healed portions of his body, but he couldn't complain. Coreen coughed, looked at the three of them with amusement, then stepped back toward the door, giving him a little wave. He smiled at her as she retreated.

Mike held out his hand to Henry, who was trying to look nonchalant. "C'mere." In an instant, Henry knelt on the other side of the bed, cupping his face. "I'm sorry," Mike said.

"For what?" Henry kissed him gently.

"Everything," Mike said against his lips. "I can remember saying those things, but I--"

Henry kissed him harder, cutting him off. When he finally pulled back, he said, "All is forgiven. Just try not to nearly die again in the near future."

"That was my plan, believe it or not. And thank you."

Henry raised an eyebrow at him. "And I repeat: For what?"

"For not giving up on me. It must have been difficult."

Vicki sat up and if her eyes were slightly damp, neither man was brave enough to point it out to her. "Maybe a little," she said, moving so she was cross-legged next to him.

"Although, I do have to ask why you two kept lying to me."

"We never lied!" Vicki insisted.

"Fine, lied by omission."

"What were we supposed to say?" Henry tilted his head. "How would the you of six years ago have reacted if Vicki had stated the entire truth from the start, including vampires, demons, threesomes, and doppelgangers?"

"Well..." He wanted to argue but then remembered the little matter of handing Henry over to Mendoza. "Yeah, I see what you mean."

"We did the best we could." Vicki shrugged. "Besides, if we'd told you the entire truth at the beginning, Megaera might have come before you understood that you weren't guilty."

"Huh." Mike thought about that. She had a point there too.

"But now that you have your memories back, I want to know what the hell you were doing in that alley."

Mike looked at her, amazed he could have forgotten this. "I was at work when I felt something. A growing need to destroy both of you. And sure, I frequently want to hit Henry with a baseball bat, but it doesn't generally reach the point of 'grind him into paste and spread him on toast,' so I got the idea this was a very bad thing."

"I would certainly think so," Henry murmured as he leaned against the headboard next to Mike, his shoulder cool and familiar where it leaned gently against him.

"I guess something in turning himself into my double tied me to him. Maybe he was drawing on my memories? I don't know. All I know is that I could feel him, feel his hatred."

"Any clue _why_?" Vicki asked. "Dr. Mohadevan hasn't been able to ID him yet. She thinks he may have used magic to wipe himself from the system."

"I'm not sure why. Things are still pretty jumbled. But I remember knowing I had to find you, because whatever was going on, it was bad." He took a deep breath, remembering stumbling out of the precinct, making excuses about a family emergency. "I think a year ago, when I hadn't had any experience with the spooky stuff, I'd have been paralyzed. But I decided if our minds were tied together, I could track him. So I did."

Vicki shook her head slowly and Henry stared. "You tracked him."

"I got in the car and started playing hot or cold. I think at one point I was following him as he tracked you, but I just drove and drove trying to get closer, and then he found you. I got out of the car and ran."

"And arrived in the nick of time," Henry said.

"I was aiming for a little bit before that point, but that's the way it goes." He tried a tentative smile.

"They have these things called mobiles, you know," Vicki said. "You could have called us."

Mike shook his head. "You try that with half your mind screaming 'Kill them!' I couldn't concentrate on much else. I wasn't thinking straight."

"Hmm, this might also explain the memory loss," Henry said. "If your mind were somehow connected to the doppelganger, the shock of his death could very well have caused some trauma."

"Told you it wasn't the concussion," Vicki said, leaning over Mike to smack Henry in the chest.

"That makes as much sense as everything else." Mike shrugged, feeling the tug in healing muscles. "The period after I shot him is mostly a blur. I certainly didn't think through the implications of shooting at someone I was connected to."

"Would you have done anything differently?" Henry asked.

"Of course not!" Mike looked at Vicki, whose face had relaxed as she watched the two of them, and at Henry, whose smile was wholly natural, rather than what Mike now realized had been his polite princely smile for the masses. He sighed, shaking his head. "I'd do anything to protect you."

"The feeling is mutual," Henry said.

Vicki grinned. "Does this mean you're ready to have my mother over for dinner so she'll stop bugging me about getting married?"

"Just wait until I'm healed, young lady. I'm going to turn you over my knee and spank you."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Can I watch?" Henry asked.

Mike couldn't help laughing. "You're both hopeless." But as Vicki tucked herself into the bed on his other side and Henry absently stroked his arm, Mike rather thought he was hopeless too. And he could live with that.

\--end--


End file.
